


A Little Sleep Song

by kaeorin



Series: Loki's Lullabies [145]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:28:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25965877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeorin/pseuds/kaeorin
Summary: While you sit at peace, admiring the rain, Loki sits nearby, admiring you.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Loki's Lullabies [145]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678240
Comments: 11
Kudos: 142





	A Little Sleep Song

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this poem comes from the Langston Hughes poem [“April Rain Song”](https://allpoetry.com/April-Rain-Song). I know I've written several rainy lullabies already but...I love the rain. I hope you do too.
> 
> Also, I can't really make separate posts here on AO3 so **please be aware that this series will come to a pause after I post Lullaby 150.** For more information, you can read [this blog post](https://grufflepuff-writes-stuff.tumblr.com/post/626746096128000000/upcoming-fic-hiatus-and-possibly-opening-up-for). I am not ending things here, but when I go back to work, I absolutely will not be able to keep up this same daily pace. I'll be out for a few weeks altogether but then I'll start posting once a week.

You loved the rain. You always had. Whether you were here in the city or back in your childhood home, rain had always held a certain magic for you. You loved the way the skies got grey and heavy. You loved the sound of raindrops pelting the windows and the roof. And the streets. Of course, it was always so much easier to appreciate the rain when you were snug and dry, but most days, you didn’t mind getting caught in a storm, either. If you had an umbrella, great. If you didn’t, of course that was a little less convenient for you, but it still didn’t bother you much. When you were little, you’d held the secret belief that getting rained on was like getting a blessing from the skies. Now that you were grown, you did tend to worry about showing up somewhere looking like a drowned rat, but so what? If you arrived somewhere soaking wet, you could laugh about the weather and people would laugh with you and you just moved on with your day.

But you were especially fond of rain on mornings like this one. You had nowhere to be. You could curl yourself right here in your window seat and watch the rain pour into the streets below. There were still people in the street, here and there, and you found yourself sending them well-wishes as they scurried and ducked for cover, but mostly things were quiet. The clouds were thick, and they barely seemed to move at all. You were in for a rainy day, and you were _intensely_ okay with that.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Of course it made you think of Loki. He’d been cut off from his brother for so long now. It made you feel bad, honestly. Sometimes, if a thunderstorm woke the two of you up in the middle of the night, you’d put your chin on his chest and watch his face. But he was good at hiding what he was really feeling. When he caught you looking, he’d smile at you so softly, so sweetly, and then brush his thumbs along your cheekbones. Any time you asked if he was lonely or if he missed his brother, he was quick to assure you that he was perfectly content here. Even when you told him that you wouldn’t be hurt if he wanted to go and visit for a while, he got that same determined look on his face and told you he wasn’t going anywhere.

All you could do was take him at his word. You were afraid to push very hard, afraid that he’d think you were tired of him and trying to make him leave. You weren’t. You just knew how it felt to be cut off from the rest of your family, and it seemed like it should have been especially painful for Loki, for whom Thor was his last remaining tie to Asgard. But he stayed here, with you. And he kept looking at you with adoration and affection in his eyes. So you didn’t push.

The sky lit up, then, the flash of lightning diffusing through the clouds, and you tipped your head backwards appreciatively as you took in the sight. The thunder came right after, quick and loud, and you imagined some giant mythical creature slinking around between the buildings in the city. 

“The way you look right now, darling...” Loki’s voice sounded softly in the doorway. You did not flinch, only turned to look at him. He was standing there with two mugs in his hands, just watching you in a way that suggested he’d been there for more than a moment or two. Warmth flooded through you and you offered him a smile that felt shy even to you. Only then did he continue to approach. “You make me so grateful that I am allowed to look upon you. If you were not mine already, I don’t know how I’d ever get anything done.”

Some tiny part of you wanted to look away, but the rest of you just gazed right back at him, greedily taking in the way he was looking at you. “You know I’ve been yours all my life.” The idea of soulmates always made you cringe, but when you were with him, things just felt right. 

He hummed something low in his throat and then bent down a little to kiss your forehead. Lovely little thrills ran through you at the contact, and your eyes slipped closed. You’d never been with anyone who made you feel like this. Everything he did or said to you made you want to dissolve into a puddle of joy. He rested his forehead against yours for several long moments. It was such a simple thing, so innocent, but it felt intensely intimate all the same.

After a little while, you felt him nudge you with a mug, and you dragged your eyes open. “Coffee,” he explained. “I saw that you brewed a pot but hadn’t touched it. I thought you might have gotten distracted.”

He knew you too well. You accepted the mug and immediately wrapped your hands around it. Just as you were about to ask him to back up so you could stand and make room for him in the seat behind you, he settled himself on the other side of the cushion. He propped one knee up against the window and let the other hang over the edge of the seat. You shifted to mimic his position and stretched to press your foot against his leg. He smiled at that, and a fresh thrill ran through you. 

You took a sip of your coffee, and you weren’t at all surprised when you realized he’d gotten it exactly right. You’d never been particularly fussy about what went into your coffee or anything, but he still noticed things like that. It made you feel so… loved. You met his eyes over the rim of your mug, and he just looked pleased. He did things like this a lot—little things that felt like so much to you—and he never, ever gave any sign of expecting to be thanked. It was just what he did. More than that: he got _embarrassed_ when it made you angry for him, when you cursed every person who had ever called him a monster or treated him poorly. This was just who he was when he felt accepted. It killed you that everyone didn’t get to see him like this, but you treasured the fact that he allowed you to see it.

The two of you sat together for a while, sipping your coffee and watching the rain and just...being there. He’d remark, quietly, on lighting that was particularly close or on a car or a person passing in the streets below, but, more often, you’d look up and catch him just looking at you. Even after all this time, all these long months of being stuck with you, you still caught him looking at you like that. Each time you did, your heart fluttered in your chest. He felt too good to be true, in all honesty. Maybe that was some of your psychological damage coming to the surface again, but sometimes it was just hard to believe how happy he made you. How happy you seemed to make him. Your brain, which had spent so much of your life bracing for and telling you to prepare for the worst, tried to do the same with Loki here in your apartment, but he never wavered.

You were beginning to allow yourself to relax into the certainty of his love.

He was also resting his head against the wall behind him and he looked out at the world. His hair was just ever-so-slightly mussed, not messy so much as...rumpled. It made you want to reach out and comb your fingers through it. And his face was soft. It often was, around you, but you still hadn’t quite adjusted to the sight. He looked so unguarded. He didn’t need to keep his face taut and tight, didn’t need to keep his brows heavy, because there was no one here who wished to harm him. He didn’t need to be on edge with you, and he _wasn’t_. He barely blinked when lightning flashed, and you were pretty sure that one corner of his mouth curled slightly any time thunder rumbled outside. But you told yourself that he didn’t look sad.

He caught you looking at him, and his smile grew wider. “What is it, love? You look like you’re Thinking.”

You smiled despite yourself, but couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. “Not really. I’m just admiring how beautiful you are.”

He rolled his eyes a little, but playfully, and licked his lips. “Little flatterer. What’s your game?”

“No game! No game.” You put your now-empty mug down on the cushion between your legs so you could hold up your hands at him, a gesture of innocence. “You’re _everything_ to me. I can’t believe you’re here.” 

He must have heard the truth in your voice, because his face softened even more then, and he held out his arms as though in invitation. You were quick to comply, rising so you could turn around and settle yourself between his legs, against his chest. He folded his arms around you immediately and lowered his mouth to your neck. He brought his other leg—the one not bent against the window—up onto the cushion to wrap it around you too, to keep you in place. Like you weren’t willing to spend the rest of time right here. You laughed ticklishly when he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your skin. He bit you gently, knowingly, and sent the most delicious chill through your body. He held you tighter.

“My dear heart. I will _always_ be here.”

And you believed him.


End file.
